I haven't written much in a while. I was on vacation and then of course when I returned to work this week, there was a shit ton of shit to catch up on. HAM is still out of school, so he and I have been spending a lot of time together in the evenings, and, well, the writing gets the back burner I guess. But I haven't forgotten about it and have no intention of giving up. I guess I just took a vacation from everything for a while. Our road trip was eye-opening. We've decided that America is too stupid, too fat, and too meth-addicted to live here. We officially have a plan to move to France. We don't have a plan, actually, but we officially have plans to make a plan. One thing on the agenda is learning French. HAM can use his electives to take French at BC and I can take the classes with him (although I will have to pay full tuition). I want to assimilate into French culture. I don't want to be an American anymore. I am OK with giving up my citizenship here - this place is fucked. The way we treat our animals, our environment, our sick and our poor, the way we treat the world - we are fucked. Any entity that goes on for as long as this one treating the rest of the planet like garbage can't last. Rome fell, America will fall, too. I don't trust this place, I don't trust the government, I don't respect the government, and I'm tired of being in debt because I can't pay my coinsurance. Having insurance is probably the most expensive mistake I've ever made, because it gives you the illusion that you can afford healthcare, when in reality, you get raped in the ass at every turn with lab fees, coinsurance, deductibles, and monthly fees. I can't take it anymore. I'd rather be slowly, gently fucked over time with super high taxes than walk around thinking I'm safe and all of a sudden get raped in the ass with a $400 medical bill that I wasn't expecting. And Obama probably won't get reelected, not that it really matters anyway. Although, it could be worse. I've seen it. We could still be in the Bush years. I miss Clinton. Maybe he was a little dirty, and he did sign NAFTA into effect, which helped degredate the environment and force already suffering third-world countries into even more destitute conditions, but damn, at least we had jobs then. At least we had Al Gore. Now we have no one looking out for the environment, or education, or the future of this country. America is slippin' hard and I don't have any more good reasons to stay. I want to live where animals are treated with dignity and respect, where people are given healthcare as a right and not as privelage, where people are laid back about nudity and sex, where it's okay to enjoy wine and bread, yet not overindulge to the point of addiction and obesity, where being cultured and intelligent is still a good thing, and god damn, I want some of that mediterranean sun.

Lately I don't even know what to write about. I feel like crap today because I drank three beers last night, which was way too much for me. I'm such a lightweight now. There was a time when three beers would've been an appetizer for me. I was drinking like cases of beer back in the day. Well, I don't know if it was really cases, but it was a shit ton of beer, just sucking them down like fruit punch. But now, three beers gets me pretty loopy and feeling like ass the next day. I still went to counseling this morning, then work, then the gym where I did personal training and cardio, and now back to work again. So I'm not fucking up as far as my responsibilities go, but as far as my general well-being, I'm fucking up. It's just not worth it. It's not that fun. For instance, last night, HAM and I were watching the first episode of Mad Men, and int this episode, one of the guys tells his fiancee, "Of course I love you, I'm giving up my life to be with you, aren't I?" This made HAM laugh, so I jumped on him immediately and gave him a hard time the rest of the night for laughing at this guy's joke about marriage being a trade-in for your life. HAM knows I want to get married. Ever since we first met and he asked me what I wanted, I said I wanted to get married. He said he didn't believe in marriage, and he explained to me that he didn't need the government interfering in his personal life. I understand that. I don't need that, either, but I still want to be married. It doesn't have to be legally bound, that's really not the point for me. I just want the commitment. I want him to declare his undying love for me and make a promise to stay with me no matter what. I don't need the court document, I just need the personal statement during a ceremony where I get to wear a pretty dress and there are witnesses, like his mother. So for me, when he jokes about marriage being the end of his life, I take it seriously. I'm a good girl. I'm pretty, funny, smart, and I'm a great cook. I mean, I have my flaws like anyone, but as far as girls go, there's lots of guys who would feel lucky to have me, and I think HAM should want to marry me before someone else tries to steal me away. There's these two guys who work in the same office park as my counselor, and every time I walk by, they always stare at me. Today, they finally decided to say hello to me and I found out that they work for an engineering recruiting firm that allows them to travel to several different countries. They are both young men, fine looking, with careers, and I know they think I'm cute. Of course, I'm not interested in these guys, I love HAM and only want to be with HAM, but the point is, it's not like I'm some loser that no one else would want. I'm attractive to people. And once they finally talk to me, they discover that I'm not a bimbo, I'm actually interesting to talk to and funny and not at all stuck up. I'm someone that guys want to get to know. And HAM is young. He's only 24 and I'm 31, so I worry he's not ready to commit to me, and I could spend years with him waiting for him to want to get married, and in the end he decides he wants more experience or I'm not right for him, and he leaves me when my expiration date has long since passed. In a lot of people's eyes, my expiration date already passed since I'm over 30 (for some men, 25 is the cut off). It's not that I believe in these expiration dates - I think they're offensive - but they're a reality for a lot of people. Women's stock goes down as steadily as men's stock goes up. As men progress throughout their lives, working their way up corporate ladders or what have you, they continue to increase their value to the opposite sex, meanwhile, women get older and accumulate more fat, wrinkles, and gray hair, making them less and less valuable with every passing day. It is sad, but it is a fact that cannot be denied and it is true in almost every culture. Men are visual creatures and they desire beautiful women. It may not be all that matters, but the fact is, it does matter. HAM loves the way I look today. He loves my big butt and small waist, he loves my makeup and hair and he loves my tan and nails. I can keep up a lot of this stuff, but there is the inevitable aging process that will change the shape of my body, turn my hair gray, and produce fine lines and wrinkles on my face. I want him to love me enough to love me when I'm old. I want him to look at me and not just see a hot chick with a nice ass, but I beautiful woman who he wants to grow old with, who he loves so much that I would be beautiful to him no matter how many years have passed or how many gray hairs I have. I have been with people who have said they felt that way about me before, and I don't really know if it was true or not, but I know there are some men out there who truly love their middle-aged or elderly wives, and I think I deserve a man that loves me that much, too. A man who doesn't see my gray hair or wrinkles, but sees the real me and thinks I'm amazing, stunning, and the only girl he'd ever want. That's how I see him. I imagine him twenty years from now, HAM the man instead of HAM the baby. I see him being just as sexy, if not more so. I see him always being the guy I want to be with more than anyone else in the world, no matter if he develops a gut or stays in perfect shape. Whether he loses his pretty blonde hair or keeps it. I don't care, because I love him as a person, not as a good-looking person. I've never even been with a good-looking guy before I met him. All my boyfriends were toothless, fat, or bald. Or all three. I don't care about looks on a man. I care more about their sense of humor than anything else. I need someone who makes me laugh, and who thinks I'm funny, too. HAM does that, too. He thinks men are always funnier than women, as I've mentioned before, but he does think I'm funny, and I think he's funny, too. But I do have this fear that he'll only love me as long as I'm pretty, and one day if I'm not pretty enough, he'll either stay with me out of obligation but long for someone younger and more attractive, or he'll just leave me. Because when I met him I was physically perfect and since then I've gained like seven pounds. My stomach isn't perfectly flat anymore and I've had months of being pale instead of tan, or I've been too poor to afford to get my nails done so they grow out and look ratty for a while. I'm just afraid how I look is extremely important to him because I looked perfect when he met me and he's really into physical appearance. He loves Katy Perry and he was totally into the idea of my getting breast implants (which didn't pan out partly because of cost, and partly because I read all of the literature that they give you when you go in for a consultation and it scared the crap out of me). Katy Perry has those giant milky globes and I have just slightly more than a twelve-year-old. I often joke that I should shop in the training bra section. So I don't know, maybe I'm just insecure, as my counselor says. I know I'm insecure, but I don't think it's all in my head, I think HAM really has an aversion to unattractive women and wouldn't want me if I was fat or ugly. And I can control fat, and I'm not ugly, but I can't stop time. I will get old, I have no say in the matter. I just hope he'll fall more in love with me and see me as beautiful as I get older instead of just old. I know I have an expiration date, I just hope he'll still want to drink me once I've gone sour.